


Papyrus' Brother Is A Smiley Trashbag

by ImpulseFunWritinAnon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asgore is super nice, Battle Scenes, Canon Related, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flowey has issues, Flowey tries to be good, Gen, Having A Bad Time, Mental Instability, POV Flowey, POV Third Person Omniscient, Sans tries to stop the bullshit, Suicide Attempt, pre-game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulseFunWritinAnon/pseuds/ImpulseFunWritinAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon discovering the ability to RESET, SAVE and LOAD, Flowey ventures through the path of righteousness. But for how long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank the fine anons of /utg/ for their support. I'm glad to finally share my works outside of a pastabin. I hope you all enjoy my stories as much as I had fun writing them.

The grass glades gently move against the faint wind of the Underground. A dash of moonlight peeks through the dark, peaceful cave. In one of the many areas of the cave is a room. Beautiful, golden flowers adorn the area, leaving a faint but pleasant ambrosial fragrance. As the wind carries the aroma throughout the graceful room, the moonlight grows, and lands onto a a dusty, long sheet covering an aged throne, lonely and forgotten in a corner. Slowly, the light makes its way towards a hefty, royal throne in the middle. The flowers move in sync, with the wind gracing the flowers' petals, adding onto the already pleasant aroma of the room. 

Dawn approaches. The moonlight makes its retreat, the sun taking over in its stead ever so slowly. The soft sun gradually lights up the Underground, and onto the throne room. If only flowers could smile. 

Upon closer inspection, within the herd of flowers flowing across the room lies a flower slightly out of sync of the rest. It's an ordinary flower. Yet somehow, the leaves slowly are lifted up, as if attempting to stretch. A yawning face appears. 

The flower wakes up.

“Aaahhhh...”

Its face phases out of its yawn, turning into a vacant, bored look. The flower sighs, closing its eyes as it proceeds to extend its body towards the sun, feeding off its energy. The room is silent, save for the whisper of the wind blowing out of the room and throughout the dimly lit caverns. Minutes go by. An hour goes by.

“Ugh. Asgore will be coming in soon from his morning tea...”

The flower backs away its body, turning its back on the sun. As they slowly open their eyes, it yawns again, landing with the same face as it had moments after waking up. A scowl forms on its face as it looks at the flowers surrounding it, feeling disgust, as if they had wronged the flower. 

“Why a stupid golden flower? Why have this form? I was dust. Fallen down. It makes no sense...”

Disappointed by the reminder of its past life time, it reminiscences. A somber expression forms.

“Chara. I miss you. Why couldn't you...? Why couldn't I...?”

Sobs escape its breath, lightly shedding tears. Leaves cover its tired eyes, sobs turning into cries.

“My existence is torture, Chara. I didn't choose this. I don't know why me, of all monsters, came to have this fate. What did I do to wrong?”

Suddenly, the flower drops its leaves on its sides in defeat, revealing a pained expression. Despair. Grief. Defeat.

Alone. 

The forlorn creature slowly stares blankly at the crack in the ceiling, light shining through, the expression falling more depressed with each passing second.

It tries to feel love. Feel compassion. Feel hope. It cries for help.

But nobody came.

Its agonizing cry echoed throughout New Home, yet no one knew, or cared, to come to the flower's aid. Not a single soul. Not even the King. Even if anybody showed up, how could they help the tortured flower?

They couldn't.

Suddenly, its face contorted into a burning rage.

“UGH! I HATE THIS PLACE! I HATE BEING ALIVE! I'M TIRED OF THIS MORTAL COIL! I'M... I'M... I'm...” The flower paused, its ardent expression of agitation changing into one of deep sorrow.

“I... no longer... long for meaning for my existence... I... can't live in a world without being able to feel love... I can't have my old life back... Never...”

It pauses again, feeling more pained as they looked down at the ground.

“Chara... I can't do this without you.” No one is coming.

“Chara... Not even Mom or Dad can help me...” No one.

“No one.” Not a soul.

“Not a soul.” 

No love. No compassion. No hope. 

The flower releases a barrage of magic pellets, slowly forming around itself. 

This is it. There is no going back. No one will miss a flower. No one will make it whole again. No one will give it the ability to feel. No way to be a real monster. 

Only a flower.

Forever a flower.

“Suicide... is the real solution.”

It closes its eyes, one last time.

“Chara...” It whispered.

The pellets rise up.

“These are empty words...”

The fatal ring in the desired position.

“But regardless...”

They gyrate furiously.

“Chara...”

The wind stops.

“I love you.”

Unrelentingly, the pellets jet towards its user. The final agonizing cry echoes.

The wind breaks, followed by a deadly silence, as golden petals and plant particles spread across the harmonious garden.


	2. "There, there. Everything is going to be alright."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my special hell.

Falling into the abyss, the void welcomes the flower into its illusive embrace, the mortal realm far beyond reach. All sensation is lost in the inanimate domain between time and space. The only lifeform present at this aphotic location is none other than the defeated flower, its petals and foliage decaying gradually, on the verge to obscurity. Despite the circumstances, something extraordinary, beyond the flower's understanding, is about to take place. As they descended into nonexistence, a thought delved deeply into the flower's psyche, when realistically - if one could call this scene realistic in the slightest - all functions should have stopped right after death. A little whisper rung from within itself.

“... No.” A primal feeling burned inside.

 

“I...” Scorching its very being.

 

“... don’t...” The power of...

 

“... want to...”

 

DETERMINATION.

 

“I DON'T WANT TO DIE!”

 

A harsh ringing crescendos, a brilliant light taking over the void. In an instant, the light and ringing reaches its peak, as the void flashes.

 

Everything stops, followed by tranquility filling the air, as well as an overwhelmingly sharp, stinging headache. The flower slowly comes to, feeling disoriented from the experience.

 

“W-what...? What happened? Is this...”

 

Slowly opening its eyes, the blur in the flower's vision becomes clear, revealing the warm surroundings with the brisk scent of golden flowers.

 

“Asgore's garden?”

 

The flower blinks rapidly. Agitated, they flail their whole body around, feeling like the victim of a cosmic joke.

 

“Was it all a bad dream...? It can't be... It felt so real. This can't be... This ca-”

 

The flower goes into shock and starts hyperventilating, becoming aware of the severity of the situation. _Ugh, feeling a little HOPE would sure be NICE right about now!_ One of the many racing thoughts the flower could make out, as they keep getting louder and louder. _This isn't real_ , another voice said. _This is not happening_ , yet another. _You are dead_ , and another. _This is all a bad dream._ Again and again, these voices repeated, with more negative, hopeless phrases echoing in the flower's head. The flower grips the back of its head with its leaves, unable to accept its good fortune.

 

“If this is real," the flower wondered, "why not die again?”

 

The flower wastes no time to use its magic, summoning its pellets, letting them rise and dash towards itself. After the fatal hit, everything goes black.

 

Into the void once more, with a more ardent version of the unusual sensation the flower felt on its first visit to the void. Another flash proceeds it.

 

The flower instantly opens its eyes, the same garden in sight. This time around, their vision wasn't as muddled, and they didn't feel like they were having the world's worst migraine.

 

“... What.”

 

More pellets are evoked, as they rose and converged to hit the flower. It enters the void again, but its stay was short-lived. A flash followed, again. The garden appears, again. The flower began to get annoyed.

 

“Why is this happening?”

 

The flower doesn't bother to let its pellets rise, letting the raw force hit its fragile body. Darkness. A flash. The flower awakens, again. Same garden.

 

“When am I!?”

 

Hysterical, the flower cries a maddening ear-splitting scream, summoning its pellets without further thought. The unstable and savage pellets shot mercilessly.

 

The flower barely feels the void, and with a blink of an eye, they resurrect.

 

“HOW!?” The statement reverberates throughout the kingdom of New Home, so much so that the cave's ceiling shakes off rocky debris.

 

The flower lets out exasperated pants from releasing its magic constantly, as well as the deaths that followed one another. Fatigue begins to settle onto the flower, its breaths slowly evening out. After giving itself a few minutes to calm down, the flower took a deep breath, feeling determined to understand this phenomenon.

 

_Alright_ , the flower started. _I can resurrect, but the more I brought myself to the verge of death, the faster I returned to live again. This makes no sense. I need to get to the bottom of this, and I doubt I will have to worry about it killing me._ The flower contemplated its options, and proceeded with its plan.

 

_First things first: WHEN am I?_ The flower burrowed underground, heading towards the king's house.

 

\--

 

The flower poked its head out the front yard to check if anybody was around, then rushed to one of the house's windows. The lights inside were off.

 

_Asgore must still be asleep... However, at about the time I woke up in the garden before I killed myself, he should have been up, drinking his tea on his stupid chair...! So, if he's not where he's supposed to be, Asgore must be asleep... It must be dawn_ , derived the flower. _But WHICH dawn? What DAY?_ _Yesterday?_ _Come on Asriel, THINK... I know! Asgore should still know me if it was yesterday!_

 

Taking pride in its critical thinking skills, the flower burrowed back into the earth, sneaking into Asgore's house. _I'll just blend in with the rest of the potted golden flowers! I got this!_ The flower leaped up into one of the pots in the hallway, and positioned itself in the middle of the golden flowers. _Perfect. Now all I have to do is wait for him to wake up, then I'll go up and talk to him. What if..._

 

The flower's brooding thoughts took over its enthusiasm. _What if my dad doesn't remember me?_ _Were my efforts for nothing? How will he react once he sees me?_

 

A creaking sound was heard from the far end of the hallway. As the door opened, a shadow emerged, followed by the grand figure taking slow footsteps out of the bedroom. Asgore Dreemurr, the King of the Underground; a powerful, furry goat-like monster, with a towering and intimidating height. Despite appearances, he is known to be warm, welcoming, and kindhearted. His people had no trouble looking up to him for his guidance. The king paused and stood still a moment, yawning and stretching their burly arms before going onto their daily routine. _Just in time_ , the flower anticipated. _This is it. I have to get his attention. At this point, I don't CARE if I scare him. I just need to know if he does know me. Anything!_

 

Asgore heard a rustling sound amongst one of the flower pots. "Who is there so early in the morning...? Come on out, don't be shy!" Asgore was too nice for his own good. _Well, this is a good a time as any,_ the flower concluded. It poked its head out from behind one of the flowers, showing itself before the king.

 

"Howdy! I know it's super early in the morning Da- I mean, King Asgore, but I have to ask you... Do you remember me?" The flower couldn't help but brace itself for the worst possible outcome.

 

The king's smile fell slightly, confused at the question. "... Err, I don't believe we've met. In fact, I've never seen or heard of a talking flower. I'm afraid... that I do not know you."

 

The flower fell into dismay, marked all across its face. "... I'm sorry," the king started, "but if it's any consolation, I'm about to make some tea. It's very aromatic and a great start for the day! Would you care to join me?" He smiled warmly. _This is the WORST day of my life_ , the abject flower thought.

 

Asgore took quick note to see the flower's pained expression. "I'm sorry, but did I say something wrong, little fel-"

 

"HOW COULD YOU NOT REMEMBER!?" The flower interrupted brashly. "I'm your SON, you IDIOT! How can you NOT remember your own SON!?" There was no stopping this rant. The flower gave in to their impatience and anger, as a breakdown ensued. "I've wasted WEEKS of my time with you in this house, trying to make up for my death. I wanted to FEEL something for you! Just feel SOMETHING overall! ANYTHING!"

 

The king was silent and taken aback by the flower's sudden outburst. Yet, he listened patiently. "I am your SON, ASRIEL. How do you NOT remember something as important as THAT!?" Asgore finally felt compelled to say something. Afterall, no one should have the nerve to mention his dead son in such a way, for Asgore hasn't even been able to finish grieving over his loss. A firm tone let out from his breath, as Asgore fixated his stare onto the rude flower.

 

"How dare you bring up my son in such a way. I cannot help but feel hurt. Trying to declare yourself as Asriel is much too bold of a move. Either you are telling the truth, or you must really be looking to bring a rise out of me." The flower flinched at the thought of his own father hurting them. "However... I know better than to give in to your outrageous words, and I am not to be unsettled so easily. I am not interested, nor willing, to hurt anyone, or anything. I simply ask this of you..." The king, looking forlorn, dropped their stare, and turned their head slightly away from the flower's view.

 

"Please... Leave my departed son out of this."

 

Unfortunately, the flower could not feel for his father's great anguish. Once again, the reminder of not being able to feel an ounce of compassion brought on resentment. Despite the king's plea, the obtrusive flower burst out laughing maniacally, with a demented, sick expression.

 

"HAHAHAHA! Golly, you are so PATHETIC! How YOU could possibly be my dad is ASTOUNDING! I don't know what I was THINKING! It doesn't matter to me whether I'm your son or not anymore. In the end, all that matters is that now I know, that ALL the time I spent with YOU, all your futile attempts to make ME feel better, and Mom's loving, tender care was ABSOLUTELY MEANINGLESS! HAHAHA! It's HILARIOUS! And YOU ask of ME to leave your SON out of this? Ha..."

 

The caustic flower pauses to catch its breath for a moment, a sadistic smile creeping up across its face, with utmost animosity.

 

"You really ARE an idiot."

 


	3. Your Best Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Asgore has been met with kindness. Hostility developed after a dreadful revelation. The flower has no self-control. Love, hope, and compassion are a thing of the past. Maybe a new beginning is what they need. But what kind is up to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flower's new low.

The morning sun rose over Mt. Ebott's lush, grassy terrain; yet, the Underground was again denied all this, the curse of the seven humans' magic sealing them from any of the surface's privileges. The only sunlight the cimmerian monsters were allowed were the few cracks on the great cave's ceilings. The most notable rifts that let the vibrant rays in were in a gorgeous garden of rich, golden flowers. The room in which the leftover rays mostly escape to was none other than the ancient throne room. The blossoming environment was a new development in the room's history; the flowers were not present at the time that King Asgore still had his wife by his side, their son and adopted human child still alive and well. However, long ago, sunbeams were - and are - a luxury all on their own in the Underground, even with the ancient room at the time possessing a crisp, leafy meadow. This place was truly a room fit for royalty. Thus it was decided, by the people of the Underground, to be given to the Dreemurr royal family; for that extravagant beauty could only be fit for a king and his queen, therefore naming it their "Throne Room", since the construction of New Home - the most unoriginal of names. The king couldn't help but be bad with names to begin with, yet his people attributed this character flaw to be nothing short of lovable.

 

With Asgore's family broken apart through cruel fate, the home of the Underground king was in emotional disrepair. After the disaster that was the deaths of their children, and the resolve that the king had to avenge their fall, his wife, Queen Toriel, separated herself entirely from her royal identity, going as far as secluding herself in the ancient Ruins; a place where, at the time, was the sanctuary that the monsters were forced to make for themselves shortly after the War Of Humans and Monsters. Yet, despite the partition, Asgore proceeded with his plan to kill all humans that descend into the Underground, for the sake of his people. For the sake of their freedom. For the sake of their hopes and dreams. He had to move on with his life, making the daily effort to stay strong and keep the Underground hoping for a new dawn. Asgore kept his home the same, perhaps in the hopes that his wife might come back to him, and to keep his children in his memories forever, both in his heart and physically. He still kept writing in his diary, just like old times. Afterall, optimism is an absolute necessity in the Underground, and what better way to show it than starting a brand new day by writing "it's a nice day today"?

 

Asgore did his part for the start of the day. The question now is, will everyone else do so? When Asgore awakened from his slumber, he expected nothing short of a beautiful day. And, if any of his people felt otherwise, he would make the effort on their behalf, to keep spirits alive, even if it hurt him. What he did not see coming was an otherworldly being that transcends all common sense; a peculiar anomaly. Every monster has a SOUL, made of love, hope, and compassion. Therefore, monsters can understand each other at least on the core level. But what about somebody, or something, without a SOUL? Worse yet, what if something without a SOUL gains the will to live? What an encounter that would be.

 

\--

 

Asgore was flabbergasted at the Flower's sudden change in demeanor. The flower turned so hostile in such a short amount of time that it was uncanny. He didn't know how to feel about this, let alone his next plan of action. Asgore weighted out his options to determine whether to tell the strange flower to leave, or let someone else take care of it. Killing or hurting the flower would be contradictory to his nature. In addition, why would somebody kill a flower? Stepping on flowers while in his garden is different from stomping on them. He watered them. He gave them sunlight. He kept them alive. In return, the flowers gave him memories of his dearly departed, fallen children. So why be intimidated by one and take its special life, regardless of how much of an abomination it turned out to be? _Wouldn't it be kind to kill it, in a way? Almost like... a mercy killing._

 

_... What a horrible option that is, let alone to think in such a heartless way. I disappoint myself. Perhaps that is why Tori left me. I am truly pathetic. If only she could someday find it in her to forgive me. Bah, I don't deserve such mercy. The very least I can do is to treat this antagonizing flower with kindness. Kind of like that phrase, "kill with kindness"... I can be on board with that._

 

Asgore snapped out of his thoughtful state, returning back to the reality of the situation that unfolded. The king stood there infront of a pot of flowers in the hallway, the flower sneering at him with contemptuous eyes. The sharp nails of his wooly padded feet were digging onto the elegant carpet the more the flower threw venomous words at him. The flower started off so deceptively well. To think that this flower had the gall to plant itself amongst the potted flowers, sitting to the left of the entrance of their old room, as the Underground king slept was nothing short of depraved. Yet, it became true, to the king's displeasure. Calling Asgore an idiot was just a bonus. There were no crickets to break the silence. No birds that sung. No wind to breeze through the windows. No whistling from the king's tea kettle. Just dead, uncomfortable silence for that one minute, as they both thought to themselves to plan their next move.

 

Then... It started again.

 

"Asgore... don't you know?" The flower crooned in a malign undertone, softly giggling maliciously. It stretched itself towards the Underground king as to increase its intimidation tactics, its true intent a mystery to Asgore. "I am your son, DAD. It's one of your many dreams come true, to have your SON back... isn't it?" It was so sick and depraved of compassion that the king soon caught on that this was by far no ordinary flower monster, if there ever was one. _How is it possible to have a heart as cruel and deceitful as this?_ Asgore mused as he listened to the cold words, pushing further and further into despair. _This is neither human nor monster. Is this what... I think it is...?_

 

"But did you REALLY want me back as a flower?" The flower continued. It vaulted from the pot, slithering to the king, closer and closer. A vicious and terrifying smile crept up on its face as it spoke in a murmur, its voice intensifying as it went on. "I mean, look at me, Dad! Aren't I as beautiful as the flowers in your garden? The same kind of flower that you use for your daily cup of tea in the morning? That you water on a daily basis? That you take the pleasure in observing as you sit on your throne when we dance along to the breeze? Ha... Hmm. I guess... You could say I am not exactly your dream come true. Maybe I am something more to you! Maybe I am nothing but a bad dream. Yet, you wanted me alive. Somebody must have wanted me alive, right? Otherwise, I beg the question... what good is my existence, oh dear father of mine? And if my existence happens to be destined to be reunited with YOU, then I am indeed, in a way, your best dream, am I not? But riiiiight, you were not expecting for me to lack a SOUL, were you?"

 

Asgore gasped as he was struck with fear, covering his mouth from further noise with his shaky hands. His pupils dilated, a sweat breaking on the corner of his forehead. He freed his left hand to ruffle back the sweat from his fur, only to spread it deeper into the skin underneath his thick fur coat. The flower's expression instilled everlasting dread into his very SOUL, his teeth gritting at his short, firm nails.

 

 _Why is it claiming to be my son...?_ Asgore mulled over his dilemma, dread intensifying deeper inside. _How could it be like this? How did it turn out like this? What did I do to deserve this...? Why is it staring at me with such contempt...? I feel so... heavy inside... my SOUL... Why am I reacting like this...? I don't want to fight... This isn't right..._

 

"Ha... Of course... I'm not your best _dream_ , am I, _Dad_? No, I have a better idea of what I _may_ be. I am..."

 

_Oh no._

 

"YOUR BEST NIGHTMARE!"

 

The flower cackled maniacally, its high-pitch causing the hairs on the king's fur to rise. Suddenly, Asgore's SOUL appeared, clear as day, the only light in the dark hallway, save for the light from his bedroom on the far end. Asgore panicked, looking in all directions, trying to make sense of this predicament. His fur grew saturated with sweat, no longer on his forehead, but throughout his entire body, the heat rising from the combination of dread and anxiety. As the king tried to back himself up from the floor, on his second step, he tripped backwards over the floorboard underneath the carpet. He dug into the carpet so deep, it left ugly, jagged claw marks. His sharp toe nails stuck to the fine cloth, initiating his fall, the cloth ripping from his nails. As soon as he hit the bottom, he shuffled himself back instinctively, as the flower crept its way towards the king like a snake. After shuffling further, the king found his back to the hard wall. He started panting anxiously, the sweat trickling down to his eyes and snout profusely. His feet shuffled the hallway carpet back, still wanting to get further back. The palms of his hands, oily and wet from rubbing his forehead, started to perspire, his hands tensing up as he pushed himself back, his hands slamming the wall. The distress sent shivers up the fretful king's back. Then, the flower let out a cackling laugh, looking to get a reaction from him. The flower started again, in a vain manner, its hideous snarl rising.

 

"Come on, DAD! How about we play a GAME? And don't worry, I already have the PERFECT game planned out for us!" It's face contorted into one of madness, developing cheeks, wide crazed eyes, and a mouth full of teeth.

 

"It's calle-" "Enough."

 

While the flower began to speak, Asgore took a slow deep breath. The king, as shaken as he was, picked himself back up from his state of fear. His back was no longer against the wall. His hands clenched into fists on his sides, as he let out his breath calmly and slowly. His muscles relaxed after all the frightening tension. His fur had dried in clumps, messy from the build-up of salt and water from his perspiration. The king regained his confidence and firm posture, developing a serious look. As he looked down at the flower, he steadily stepped forward, gradually looming over the shocked flower, giving the king a dumb look back. The flower was absolutely speechless at the turning of the tables.

 

 _Everything was going so well! What got into this idiot king!?_ The flower went over his head, trembling furiously as he spited the king. _This is preposterous! This makes no sense! I thought I played him! I had him right where I wanted! What does he want!? What is he going to do now!? What am I going to do NOW!?_

 

The flower let out a feverish cry, rising as its patience broke down. The king lunged at the flower, snatching its stalk with his stout right hand. His grip tightened into a choke-hold, causing the flower to turn pale. Not from the act of being choked - since a flower has no way of realistically breathing - but rather from his dad actually attempting to harm them. The king's refined eyes showed the sense of resolve within his SOUL. His tone of voice turned solemn.

 

"Now, this is what we are going to do, whatever you are. Let me start by saying the following. First off, you are not my son. Your dogged attempt to impersonate him is disrespectful to his memory. My son, Asriel Dreemurr... was a good, well-mannered child, and he would never dare act out the way you are, or say the things you say. Second..."

 

The king's strain on the flower's stalk became even more forceful, almost coming into junction with Asgore's snout. His resplendent, ironclad eyes glared at the flower with intent.

 

"Get out of my house. And please, do watch your step on the way out."

 

The flower was astonished at how merciful his dad was. Asgore let go off of the plant, patiently waiting for it to comply. After giving him a narrow puzzled look, the flower snickered at him. It wanted to part ways with his dad forever with a few last words.

 

"Ha... Even with the way I acted out, you are still such a softie. Well, see you again in another time, Dad. I don't know about it going better next time, but for all I know, we won't come to fight like this. Maybe we might tear each other part instead!"

 

The flower cackled madly, interred itself underground, and dashed out of Asgore's house. Once they were out of sight, the flower sobbed, grieving for their lost life. It didn't take long to get over it. With more determination than ever, they returned to the lone garden.

 

"Time for another one."

 

Without any other alternative to go back, the flower evokes its deadly halo of pellets around itself, and crash down on it mercilessly.

 

\--

 

Back at the garden, again.

 

"And here we g- huh? What is THAT" _How come I've never seen it before!?_

 

It looked at the shining beacon near the dusty throne in awe, tilting its head to analyze the mysterious light. As time passed by, within minutes, awe turned into confusion, as it circumvented around it, pacing back and forth with its roots deep in the moist, rich ground, its golden companions basking in their sun-kissed glory. Confusion turned into frustration, as it thought about the encounter with his dad. _Why did I let it go that far? Oh yeah. I can't actually care about the guy anymore._ Eventually, after an hour of deliberating on the existence of the star-like object, and its own fate, frustration turned into anger. It was fuming at how something like this could happen so late into its unfortunate experience. It hindered its agitated state, sighing dishearteningly.

 

"Ugh, what does it do anyway." At a touch of a petal, the flower heard an unfamiliar sound, like a big bubble popping. A great tingling sensation is felt.

 

"Wha... what did it do? What did IT do!?" _AH! THE TIME!_ Exasperated, they went back to Asgore's house, snuck inside, and saw him pouring himself a cup of tea. The flower officially had enough of time-travel. Its right eye twitched as its emotions spiraled down, its racing thoughts coming back to it. _So, if it didn't send me back in time, what does it ACTUALLY DO!? Augh, I WANT TO GO BACK!_ And with that, the flower went back, its command being finalized.

 

Back at the garden, again.

 

"EXCUSE ME!?" It bellowed loudly, its anger rising. It didn't take long for the flower to rush and go back to watch the king's daily routine. He was pouring himself tea, again. In the exact same spot. The flower hid under the king's hefty couch, and snickered quietly.

 

 _This 'saves' the progress I've made... SAVES... Hahaha..._ It decided to activate its power, uttering the words in its thoughts. _I want go back._

 

Back at the garden, again.

 

"And that 'loads' my SAVE... I think I finally get it. This sick joke. This is some sort of GAME, IS IT NOT!? HAHAHAHA!" It burst into mad laughter, not even fazed anymore by the severity of its current state of affairs. "Well, I'M NOT PLAYING IT! I COULD HAVE KILLED MY DAD! BUT..." A new plan manifested itself.

 

"But why not 'play' nicely? What if I can just help people instead? Killing is not my thing anyway. Since MERCY still seems to be a thing with my dad, I don't see why I can't help everybody in the Underground. Wouldn't it be nice to get along with everybody? Haha... ha..."

 

"..."

 

 _At least it won't hurt to resurrect again, and I won't have to take out those stupid pellets. AND I won't have to get flustered about my progress being lost. I wonder... can I actually go ALL the way back in time, WITHOUT dying this time around? Let's see... hmm..._ It concentrated, shutting its eyes. _I want to go ALL the way back._

 

Back at the garden, again.

 

Sneaking into Asgore's house, again.

 

The king's homely abode was quiet and still. No lights were lit to add warmth to the carpeted hallway. Asgore was deeply asleep, not one single toss or turn in his slumber. The flower gave a bestial, sinister grin.

 

_I can't WAIT to get to know everyone. And if they don't like me, I can just try again. And again. And again!_

 

 _I guess 'resetting' the time can come in handy after all._ And with that, it RESET.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flower's new high.


	4. Having A Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flower decided to mess around with Asgore in order to learn how to interact with the people of Underground. A little late after all its mishaps following the great revelation of game functions. The flower also decides to give itself a name.
> 
> And now, Flowey is encountered by a mysterious figure. Could this mean trouble further ahead into its journey to righteousness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onward!

Feeling as determined as ever, the flower approaches their destination. They've been using King Asgore every so often to practice the art of making friends. Since they lack compassion, they could care less about how shocked the King gets at the thought of a flower talking to him for the first time. To the mischievous flower, this would be about the twelfth - or was it fourteenth? - time of conversing with the King in such a manner, before re-embarking on their righteous journey to help out the monsters of the Underground. A little something went wrong last time. The flower was a bit too forward in their attempts to assist monsters, causing them to feel hostility from the flower, no matter how effective the flower's help was.

 

After all those failed attempts, the flower needed to make sure to sound convincingly amiable, not give off an uncanny first impression. And what better monster to learn from than Mr. Fluffybuns? Thankfully, the flower has not RESET just yet, save for the times when they tested out their new powers on themselves, as well as Asgore's use of self-defensive tactics against the flower. Although the Asgore incidents weren't exactly on purpose, at least the flower has been getting better at practicing self-control. Having no SOUL, this is a gargantuan task.

 

They approach the golden corridor, giddy with a sick sense of excitement - if one could even call it excitement - as they interact with the shiny SAVE beacon. "Oh golly, I can't WAIT to see the look on his stupid face when I do it again!" The flower giggled themselves silly. "I can't help myself, but I HAVE to know what happens if I tell him tha-"

 

“i will not let you take another root further, i'm afraid.”

 

The low voice echoed from the other side of the room. The flower looked around, startled. From a distance, it spotted a figure. The light shining through the glass windows and the height of the pillars created blankets of shadows throughout the corridor, making finding the source of the voice problematic. It started approaching gradually, a languid movement in their steps on the elegant tile floor. The closer the mysterious figure came to be, the more the flower became determined to find the voice. Squinting a little harder, the flower noticed a white, wide grin, and little pale pupils. Whatever this thing was, it was short in stature, with an amiable expression, yet the flower couldn't help but feel a menacing pressure in the air.

 

 _Oh COME ON, not now!_ The flower groaned, agitated by this new obstacle. _Who was that anyway? I don't recognize that voice..._ The flower mused warily. They needed a plan. _I will NOT have anybody interfere._ _Time for a facade._

 

The flower's expression instinctively changed to one of faux genial, welcoming attitude. “Howdy! I've never seen you before, mister! I'm...”

 

They broke their smile, pausing mid-sentence. _Right. I'm not Asriel anymore... I don't exactly have time to be original. I have no choice but to wing it._

 

The flower went back into character. “I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!”

 

The soft steps came to a halt. Then, a reply echoed from the shadows.

 

“that's, uh, very original, bud-dy, but i'm not in the mood for introducing myself.” Whoever it was, they sounded almost monotonous. The simple pun didn't really come off as funny at all. _This is going to be harder than I thought. Ugh, I need to double my efforts for this weirdo_ , Flowey thought, still baffled by the joke.

 

“Oh... ha ha...” A nervous laugh accompanied by awkward short coughs escaped from Flowey's mouth. “... well, I just thought it would be nice to start this conversation a little more light-heartedly, mister! I just want to see King Asgo-”

 

“you're not going anywhere,” they said flatly.

 

Flowey began to look around to see if there is anybody else with this guy. Again, the mysterious figure drew closer. The light then began to shine slowly onto the figure, and revealed...

 

“Err, golly! Those are REALLY cute slippers! I-I think th-”

 

As the figure approached, Flowey noticed the strangest detail above their slippers and socks. Literal boney legs. I _s this guy a skeleton? I've never seen a skeleton in the Underground before_ , Flowey pondered. _When did that happen?_

 

“Oh, a skeleton!" Flowey said whimsically. "Where are you from, mister? You are the first skeleton I've seen in my life, you know. I have to ask, do you feel temperature?” If the flower could facepalm, they'd knock their petals off their head. _I'm such an IDIOT!_ Flowey scolded themselves. _The temperature? That's a new social low for me._

 

The soft-footed figure stopped, deciding to entertain this declining conversation. “i feel it in my bones.” Deadpan, again. This did not help lift anyone's spirits.

 

“Ha ha...! Are you some sort of comedian? You seem to be one for jokes!" Flowey faked their enthusiasm as best as possible.. "I got a joke for you!” _Golly, I never thought I'd do improv in my life,_ Flowey cringed at the thought.

 

“go on,” the skeleton stood still to listen. Flowey took a deep breath.

 

“Err... when does a skeleton laugh?” _Great opening there, stupid! Don't flinch._

 

“when.” The stranger uttered passively.

 

“When... when something tickles his funny bone~!” Flowey strained their smile further, their eyes wider. A little more and the flower's expression would be nearing insanity.

  
Surprisingly, a light chuckle escaped the skeleton's ample grin.

 

“heh.”

 

Silence filled the corridor, save for the chirping of birds outside the windows. The beautiful melodies did nothing to ease the tension. Flowey got caught up in their desperate effort to save face.

 

“Wow, that's funny to YOU? I didn't think you would be so lively!” Flowey spoke too soon. _It's over_ , Flowey felt disgruntled. _That skeleton BETTER have a better sense of humor than this. Sure would be nice to be able to HOPE for a moment or two!_

 

The skeleton's grin did not falter for a second. With a few more lazy steps, they came face to face with Flowey. The flower couldn't help but gaze in astonishment, mouth slightly agape. It was a skeleton alright. A short skeleton that wore a blue unzipped hoodie, with an ivory fur-lined hood, a bland white turtleneck, black sports shorts, and pink fuzzy slippers. Their hands were tucked in the hoodie's pockets.

 

_HAH! HE'S LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A CHILDREN'S STORYBOOK! HA HA HA!_

 

The flower let go of all stress that build up prior to this revelation, dancing in their thoughts. _Golly, this is too much for me! I just want to burst out laughing in front of him! SPORTS SHORTS!? Do skeletons even EXERCISE!? He's just a pile of bones! And WHY even have a fur-lined jacket on? That's RIDICULOUS! This IDIOT is going around the Underground with a fuzzy jacket and slippers on! Oh, I gotta stop, he might be looking at me weird. But WHO CARES!?_ Flowey has never been so amused in their life.

 

 _Ha... but still... seriously... why is it that this fairytale skeleton make me feel like jumping out one of those windows?_ Flowey pondered, as their anxiety rose.

 

“i may be dead, buddy, but i still have a soul, you know." Flowey flinched.

 

"that statement wasn't very considerate, but..." The skeleton closed their eyes.

 

"i'll let it pass, in good faith. afterall..." As Flowey anticipated his next words with bated breath, the grinning skeleton raised his gloved hands and shrugged casually, then blinked with his left eye.

 

"who am i to set expectations on a flower?" Flowey felt their body burn, livid at the aloof skeleton. _I've never had to put this much effort in my life,_ Flowey gritted their 'happy' grin. _Lots of firsts in this POINTLESS conversation!_

 

"onto more pressing matters though," the skeleton paused, its pupils fading.

 

"i suggest you stop messing with time, buddy. it's getting a bit annoying, to say the least. as far as i know, you have no business waltzing into the king's garden."

 

Flowey's right eye involuntarily twitched. _Time...? How does he know? How is it even possible to know? Augh, who cares! Just STAY DETERMINED to GET OUT OF THIS AWFUL CONVERSATION!_ The flower struggles to keep up.

 

"H-ha ha, time? That's crazy, miste-"

 

"sans," he said flatly. "my name is sans. next time, ask for names when first introducing yourself. the world doesn't revolve around you."

 

"Alright, Sans..." Flowey started complaisantly. _Didn't this guy say he was NOT in the mood to introduce himself? What a hypocrite._ "First off, how is it even possible to 'mess with time'? Second off," Flowey burst out, "do you just randomly go up to strangers and talk about time travel? It's CREEPY."

 

The skeleton stares with sleepy eyes, yawning. He shrugs again, with the same plastered grin on his face. "i'm a skeleton. of course i'm creepy."

 

Flowey is nearing their boiling point, putting on a more elated smile, as their facade slowly gives away, eyes becoming wild. "Stop that! I'm SERIOUS!" Flowey snapped. What seemed to be like a grave situation turned into one of the most irritating conversations in their life, yet another first for the impatient flower.

 

"so am i, buddy." The skeleton stood composed, hands back in their pockets, blinking his right eye. "tell you what. i'll forget this ever happened, as long as you don't manipulate monsters' lives in the next coming months. or better yet, uh, forever. capiche?"

 

The flower felt both eyes twitching, their manic smile aching from gritting so hard in anger. _Who does this guy think HE is!? This skeleton is not even scary anymore. Now it's just the most obnoxious monster EVER!_ _Does this intruding skeleton ever stop SMILING!?_

 

"I. Don't know. What you. ARE TALKING ABOUT." Although absolutely stern, Flowey's composure was falling apart by the second. Meanwhile, this skeleton was not fazed. In fact, the skeleton calmly shut his eyes, beginning to retort.

 

"yeah you do. you know, it's one thing to be bad at introductions, but outright lying? yeah. i am not one to tolerate that." The skeleton opened its eyes again, looking down at Flowey with a bored, vacant expression - if one were to be able to make it out. "let me make this clear, flower. you do not want to keep lying."

 

 _Persistent, ISN'T HE!?_ Flowey lost all self-control.

 

"I don't know ANYTHING about this time traveling NONSENSE!" Suddenly, bones flew out of nowhere, ripping away at its leaves, one slapping Flowey in the face. In an instance, the skeleton's eyes changed, his right eye pitch black, as his left eye lit up, flickering a glowing bright blue and yellow. Flowey gave out a feral scream in pain and utmost frustration, their expression turning insane.

 

"wrong answer, buddy."

 

 _AUGH! YOU TRASHBAG! HOW DARE HE!_ Despite the flower's visible outrage, they felt helpless inside. The skeleton's strikes were the last thing Flowey expected. To add insult to injury, he looked as sleepy as ever, hands still in his pockets, as if this was a day at the picnic. Yet, he had a focused look, with his feet slightly apart than before. _A fighting stance_ , Flowey twitched and trembled. The flower swore the skeleton's grin grew tighter and wider, into a wild, manic grin. This skeleton was on a mission, unwilling to give a second thought.

 

He glared harshly. Flowey was paralyzed by this development. _It will all be OK_ , Flowey deducted from the situation. _I'll just end up right back in the garden anyway! This skeleton's got NOTHING on me! He's such an IDIOT._ Then, the skeleton cocked their head, looking disconcerted. His grin fell a bit.

 

"...it appears that you have no soul. this is getting interesting."

 

His glowing eye faded into the darkness, backing down his attack. _Wow, I scared him THAT easily? What a LOSER!_ Flowey felt relieved, and started to devise a plan. _I'll just sneak back into the ground and RESE-_

 

Flowey's thoughts were short-lived, as a great, skeletal maw was summoned out of thin air. Flowey's face grew pale.

 

"that's ok. as much as i like throwing little brittle, weak bones at you, and as much as i'd LOVE to flail you around the room..."

 

Something was not right.

 

"i'll just blast you into oblivion instead." The skeleton grinned, contented with the circumstances, pupils bright and joyful. Flowey saw no sign of an incoming attack, or anything, which perplexed - and enraged them - further. Flowey was outraged by the skeleton's surprisingly lively and dismissive attitude.

 

"WHAT!? YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY INSANE! YOU IDIOT! I HAD EN-"

 

Suddenly, an evoked halo of maws enclosed the flower's position, followed by piercing screeching. A magical pressure takes over the area, generating grandiose lights amplifying in the back of the maws' jaws.

 

"die."

 

Thundering rays of light exploded from the maws, their tremendous jaws agape, in a resounding boom as radiating, scorching flashes overwhelmed the hallway, causing the corridor to violently quake. The fatal, volatile attack took a split-second to fire, the maws disappearing in an instant. Disintegrated plant matter was all that was left where the arrogant flower was once planted.

 

"thistle show him. looks lilac my saffron is clover."

 

The skeleton chuckled to themselves, astounded by his words.

 

"i need to go to grillby's."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backwards!


End file.
